


Two Thorough Searches

by Verabird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cavity Searches, M/M, Paris Era, Rope Bondage, Toulon Era, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verabird/pseuds/Verabird
Summary: Cavity searches are common in Toulon to check for hidden weapons and contraband, and Javert is charged with searching Valjean.18 years later Valjean returns the favour.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arithanas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/gifts).



“Hold him still.”

Valjean watched as one of his fellow bunk mates was seized by two guards and held tight. The man struggled, who could blame him, but with the chains and the strong hands grasping his shoulders he stood no chance. His chest hit the table with a thump and he was held in place while the guard who had first spoken moved behind him.

Similar scenes were occurring all around. Guards stood behind tables, some with expressions of distaste, others of downright glee. The convicts fought fiercely against the guards as they were forced over the wood and made to stay.

Valjean winced at the harsh cracks and punches the guards delivered when their quarry did not behave as it should. It had been barely hours since the recent escapee had been recaptured and returned to the ranks, but the guards were already putting into place new preventative measures. A guard had been injured in the escape attempt, slashed with a makeshift knife carved and held together with string, but it had been where the convict had stowed the knife for safety that had the guards truly riled.

Valjean was used to strip searches, but this…

The convict behind him in the neat line of chained men leaned in to murmur something in his ear.

“Better hope you don't get Allard.”

Valjean’s eyes slid to the guard in question. His mouth was twisted into a sick sneer as he forced his hand into the convict bent over before him. There was a glint in his eye and his teeth were bared. The man cried out in pain and Valjean winced.

“Will no one stop him?” Valjean asked softly.

“Are you going to try? No, just hope you get someone like Gillé.”

Gillé was a young guard, fresh to the ranks, he treated everything with nervousness and seemed far too tentative as he regarded the man before him. Valjean prayed he would be searched by Gillé.

“They won't find anything,” Valjean said. “No one would be fool enough to come here before hiding their weapons elsewhere first.”

“You hid yours?”

“Of course.”

A sudden sharp pain landed across Valjean’s shoulder and he lurched forward bringing half the chain gang with him. The weight of the cudgel still stung across his skin as he turned up to face the guard who hit him. He scowled but kept his mouth shut.

“Move it 24601, you're next.”

The chain at his collar was detached from the rest of the group and he was shoved forward. He stood for a moment in confusion, glancing round for the free table.

“Are you an imbecile?” Valjean received a clap round the neck. “Over there, Javert is waiting.”

Valjean raised his eyes and saw the empty table flanked by three guards, two to hold, one to search. Javert was watching the proceedings with a cold disinterest. This was merely a job for a him, a necessity to restore order among the convicts, he would take no pleasure in it, but he would perform it to the greatest of his abilities.

“Hurry up,” Javert said, loud and clear. Valjean shuffled forward at a greater pace and stood beside the table. “Will you bend without protest? Or must we hold you?”

Valjean glanced to the side and watched as Allard drove his fingers ruthlessly deep into the convict bent before him. He turned back to Javert and raised his chin but did not speak.

“As I thought, another beast to tame. Hold him down."

Valjean felt the guards spring into action and grab his elbows. They gripped him tight and forced him to bend until his chest was flat against the wood. He felt Javert move behind him, then slip his finger beneath his waistband and pull down. In seconds he was exposed and Javert was putting his hands on his arse cheeks, spreading them with a clinical nature and sliding his fingers across Valjean’s skin towards his entrance.

The sensation of those fingers sent a cold shiver down Valjean’s spine. The tips were unnaturally cold, and Valjean had suspected force to be used, but Javert was careful and methodical. He slipped his finger to brush the tip of Valjean’s entrance, holding it there briefly as if warning Valjean of what was to come, and then he slid it inside.

Valjean jerked forward on instinct. The guards renewed their efforts at holding him, one put their hand over the back of his neck and held him pressed to the table so that his cheek touched the wood.

“Stay still 24601 if you know what’s good for you.”

Javert’s voice had a somewhat slimy consistency to it and Valjean trembled once more. He closed his eyes to see if that would help, but with one sense clouded his others grew more sensitive and suddenly the finger inside him burned.

Javert crooked his finger and slid it in a half circle one way and then the other, checking for any initial contraband. Valjean was no fool, he knew this only the start and that the man would surely go deeper. Sure enough, Valjean felt a second finger press into him. He groaned at the sudden pressure, the pain bearable enough, but the indignity of it all stung like thistles.

One of the guards holding him laughed and clenched his fist tighter so that his fingers dug into Valjean’s skin. “You hear that Javert? He likes you.”

“Hold your tongue,” Javert said coolly. Valjean felt Javert’s fingers breach him even deeper, feeling in corners that he was certain should not be touched by human hands. He felt full with a burning heat, and that warmth was spreading through his body at alarming speed. He tried to shift, but found himself held fast.

“Find anything?”

“Not yet,” Javert said, turning to one side so that he could push his hand deeper. “But you know how these convicts are. Desperation drives men to behave like beasts.”

The guard snorted. “Very poetical.”

Valjean’s eyes were still forced to stare at the floor, but he could almost sense the fierce glare that Javert was throwing at the other guard.

“I have nothing to hide,” Valjean spoke, his hoarse voice betraying everything he wished to conceal. Suddenly Valjean felt a hand curl through his hair and yank back harshly. His eyes watered at the instant pain and Valjean breathed in a gasp of much needed air.

“Silence.” Javert’s voice cut into him, reminding him of his place. “I will be the judge of that.”

The hand let go and Valjean slumped back against the table. Valjean endured the pain for several minutes as Javert thrust his two fingers deep inside him and felt into every corner. Valjean had not told a lie, he truly had nothing to hide, but Javert would not take the word of a convict and instead searched him thoroughly.

After an eternity of burning humiliation Javert removed his hand and the guards were yanking Valjean to his feet, not missing a moment before shoving him back to the line of waiting convicts. His collar was fastened to the man in front and then they were sent shuffling on their way as Valjean hastily pulled up his trousers.

Valjean risked a glance at Javert. The guard was watching him, his eyes narrowed. They passed over his body and took in the rest of him, lingering for a moment in places Valjean was certain a guard’s eyes should not. Valjean was sure he noticed Javert lick his lips, an almost imperceptible movement, but then the line of convicts was out the door and Javert was out of sight.

* * *

 

“A spy!”

“Bravo Gavroche!”

“Filthy scum!”

“Is the movement compromised?”

“He could not have revealed much.”

Javert closed his eyes to the cacophony as students raised their voices and spoke over each other, loud declarations of fear and triumph. It was already beginning to irritate him. Rough hands were binding his own hands behind his back and then passing that rope between his legs and knotting it round his neck in a noose. He had been caught, but he had been prepared to face the consequences of the mission, even if it meant enduring the inane chatter of schoolboys.

“Any weapons?”

“Just the gun.”

“It wasn’t even loaded.”

“Some spy he is.”

“Maybe it’s a decoy.”

“You mean there could be another weapon?”

Javert tried to disappear into his mind and away from the din, but the tingling in his wrists and neck kept him grounded in the room.

“We searched him, there’s nothing.”

“Perhaps he’s hiding it.”

“Where?”

“It could be...perhaps…”

“Surely not.”

“We should check.”

“I’m not checking. You can if you want to.”

“He could still compromise the mission.”

“Then search him yourself.”

Javert breathed in a deep breath to fill his lungs, counted to ten very slowly in his head, and then let it out. It would have been better if they’d shot him straight away, then he would not have to endure this.

“I will search him.”

Javert’s eyes snapped open. That voice. Recognisable to him in an instant, and that growl with which the words had been spoken, that possessive energy. Javert’s eyes darted to the doorway to see him, Jean Valjean, a rifle was in his hand and he leaned on the frame with all the confidence in the world. Javert sighed deeply. Of course, he thought, naturally the criminal would be among these men.

“You would undertake such a job Monsieur?”

Valjean nodded stiffly. “For the good of France.”

The young man who had questioned Valjean nodded slowly with a furrowed brow. “For France,” He repeated steadily then motioned for the students to leave the men alone. “Call if you need assistance Monsieur.”

Valjean nodded gravely and waited until the room was cleared then he strode towards Javert and wasted no time in grasping the rope about his neck. Javert choked and struggled to take a breath as Valjean yanked him forwards and began dragging him out of the back door. The rope tying his ankles hobbled him and he stumbled frequently, but Valjean paid it no heed as he pulled Javert out into the alleyway. There was a stack of crates piled against the stone wall and Valjean shoved Javert towards them before pushing him face down on top of them.

“Stay still,” Valjean said, and Javert found the voice so commanding that he obeyed for a few moments. But then he regained his senses and attempted to stand. Valjean pushed him back down by the small of his back with a vicious strength. Hitting the crates winded Javert and he remained still this time.

“There is a certain justice in this don’t you think Inspector?”

“There is no need to taunt me,” Javert gasped around the rope at his neck. “Kill me and be done.”

“I have no intention of killing you.”

Javert gritted his teeth. “Still full of lies after all this time, once a convict forever a convict.”

Valjean wrapped his hand in the rope at Javert’s wrists and pulled it up, straining Javert’s shoulders to a painful degree and forcing him to press against the crate.

“I am not going to kill you.”

“Then what do you intend to do Valjean?”

“What I promised. I will search you.”

Javert laughed cruelly and opened his mouth to retort, but then he felt Valjean’s fingers at the waistband of his trousers. They tugged playfully for a moment and then Valjean pulled them down as far as the rope would allow.

“No, this will not do,” Valjean murmured to himself and then Javert felt the knife press against his thigh. He tensed in preparation for the inevitable, but then Valjean simply cut the fabric of his trousers allowing him to pull the material fully out the way.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“I intent to search you thoroughly and you would do best not to impede my cause.”

Javert squirmed as Valjean lay a heavy palm on the small of his back and then gently stroked a thumb across his skin. It was a touch that was far too familiar and the intimacy of it burned. Javert felt Valjean push the rope out the way and then his fingers were pressed against him.

Javert hissed as Valjean’s fingers breached him. They were large and insistent, warm inside him, and the sensation was new. Javert decided it was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He stayed as still as possible while Valjean pushed his fingers deeper. He had begun with two, and Valjean’s hands were large enough as it was, the feeling was intense. Javert’s teeth clenched so much his jaw ached and he bit down even harder as Valjean readied a third finger against him.

Valjean thrust in without warning and Javert shifted forwards in his bonds. Valjean had none of the clinical accuracy of a guard searching a convict, it seemed as if he were performing the action for no real purpose other than to goad Javert. On a particularly hard thrust Javert found a soft moan escape his mouth, a pitiful whimper.

“What was that? Enjoying this Inspector? Did you enjoy doing this to me all those years ago? Do you enjoy it now even as a man you know to be a criminal is inside you?”

Javert whimpered again, instantly regretting it. He bit his tongue in vain. Valjean was tugging at the rope, pulling him up off the crate and turning him slightly so that he could keep his fingers shoved in deep but still face the man.

Valjean glanced down at Javert’s cock which was trapped painfully against the ropes, the coarse material was rubbing at his balls in a manner which made them appear red and sore. That Javert had kept such stoicism so far was admirable. Despite the rope pressing it against Javert’s stomach, the cock was unmistakably hard, flushed red and already leaking desperately.

Valjean ran his thumb over the head and Javert jerked in his bonds. “You are enjoying this aren’t you?”

“No,” Javert said, swallowing, keeping his eyes closed. “Never.”

Valjean pushed the rope aside with his fingers and ran the tip of his index finger all the way up Javert’s length. Javert stumbled, but Valjean still had three fingers jammed inside him and the motion made him wince in pain.

Valjean took Javert’s cock in his fist and began stroking, pulling on the hardened length with a rough touch. Javert opened his mouth and let out a harsh groan as he attempted in vain to pull back from Valjean’s hand.

“Silence Inspector, or would you prefer for those boys to come out and see you like this?”

Javert could not lean back as Valjean’s fingers thrust relentlessly in him, nor could he lean forward as Valjean’s fist trapped his cock. Instead he remained in a bound limbo, his muscles straining against the ropes as Valjean wrung pleasure from him.

With a well timed thrust of Valjean's fingers and a vicious stroke from his wrist Javert came hot and heavy over Valjean’s hand. The moment caused a whine to escape Javert’s lips as he fell against Valjean, his own legs giving out. Valjean paused for a moment before withdrawing his fingers and shoving Javert away from him.

Javert stumbled and fell to his knees, helpless to push himself back up as Valjean reached for the knife again and knelt beside him. Javert was breathing hard, he could see the reminder of his shame on his thighs and he saw the glint of the knife. His last moments would be of his humiliation and lack of restraint and they would find his body in this shameful disarray. Valjean raised the knife and Javert braced himself as it came down.

A moment later his hands fell to his sides and the rope fell to the cobbles behind him. He brought his palms to his face and stared.

“You are free.”

Javert turned to Valjean and frowned, but Valjean merely tossed his torn trousers towards him and turned to head back into the tavern.


End file.
